Order (Tattoos and Ties Duet #2)(92)

Keyes pushed the rewind button, taking the segment back to the beginning to try and better understand what was going on. The best he could tell, this sounded like it might involve the guy Alec had worked hard to keep behind bars. Somehow, Cummings had unexpectedly been released. He watched Alec trot down a set of steps and disappear around the corner of the building. The screen then filled with a mugshot of Donald Cummings.

What the fuck?

Keyes paused the television to get a closer look. The guy looked familiar, like real familiar. He kept the guy’s picture on screen as he reached for his cell phone and dialed Devilman.

“Hey, man,” Dev answered on the first ring, the hard rock music from the ink parlor blaring in the background.

“You near a TV?” he asked, still staring at the guy. No question, he’d run across this Donald Cummings somewhere before. Hell, it could have been anywhere, maybe even a convenience store for all he remembered.

“Nah, I’m workin’. What’s up?”

“Hang on. I’m gonna send you a picture.” Keyes pointed his phone toward the television and snapped the photo of the mugshot. He sent the picture to Dev in a text message. “Tell me when you get it.”

Seconds passed with only rustling sounds coming through the phone from Dev’s end before he was back. “Yeah, dude, that’s that guy that used to hang around all the time at the clubhouse. A fuckin’ douchebag your old man found. No way he’s gettin’ his patch. You remember him, right? Hang on.” The music faded only to be replaced with Harley pipes. Dev must have stepped outside, but Keyes wasn’t certain which one was easier to hear over. “He was always up your old man’s ass. He’d share his old lady around. You and I thought he was real fucked up.”

Yeah, okay, he kind of remembered.

“Your old man had a hard-on for him—no offense. He’d claim shit like that dude was the son he never had—no offense, again.”

Oh fuck yeah, now he remembered. He’d swept those memories and the hurt he’d felt under the rug, or so he’d thought. His father had paraded that loser around for days to get under his skin. He hated that motherfucker.

“I don’t know where his wife is, but he’s been terrorizin’ his kid.” Keyes racked his brain, trying hard to remember exactly what Alec had said about the guy.

“Sounds like he’s right up your old man’s alley then.”

That caused a humorless huff while he stared at the frozen mugshot on the screen. “Can you get me his address?”

“Yeah. I got someone in the chair, but I’ll text my mom and get back to you. I gotta go. This bitch doesn’t look happy with me stoppin’. She’s fuckin’ staring holes through the damn window,” Dev said.

“Later.” He disconnected the call and didn’t allow himself to overthink. He had the power to help Alec in this deal, and he was going to, fuck the questions that might arise. He didn’t see it taking much. He could toss out a few threats and do some shoving around with promises of more to come if the guy didn’t stop his shit with his kid. Keyes took Nash to his doggie pen. He didn’t like being the one to cage their little guy. Nash’s big brown eyes always looked so sad when the gate locked him in. “You’re gonna have to be good until we get home.”

As he dressed in his leathers for the long ride, he decided not to text Alec. The less he knew, the better. He’d take care of things on his own. By the time he had made it back to downtown Dallas, Dev had sent him the address and asked if he needed a backup. He didn’t respond. Instead, he drove straight to the address Dev had indicated.

He pulled through the front entrance of the apartment complex and rolled to a stop, the vibration from the bike rumbled between his thighs as he scouted out the area. The place was a fucking dump. Until he met Alec, these were the kinds of places where he always hung out. The whole complex was run the fuck down and that looked to have happened about thirty years ago. Peeling paint, broken shutters hanging lopsided on the building, zero landscape, and what had to be the entire population of the community loitered around outside—not in a good, let’s have a neighborhood party, kind of way. No, everyone looked straight-up thug.

Keyes eyed the different groups as he rolled past, following the numbers high on top of the buildings. He drove all the way around to the back of the complex before he found the building he was looking for. He popped the curb, driving his bike along the sidewalk dividing the individual apartments. He dropped his kickstand in place directly in front of Cummings’s door.

He centered himself. He hadn’t needed his inner badass biker in a long time, and he wasn’t sure he needed him now. If the guy wanted in his club, he’d have respect for a patched brother. Maybe he could skate on intimidation, effectively threaten this douchebag with just his status. He could then follow up with the prez in the morning. The club wasn’t opposed to slapping around their old ladies, or their kids for that matter, but they also didn’t need any more trouble right now. He could ask Fox to reinforce his message with this guy.

He took the three or so steps to the front door and balled his fist, beating on the dingy metal barrier. He heard someone right on the other side and paused, fist still in the air. The door opened, and a half naked dark-haired chick stood on the other side. Keyes ground his jaw, hating the sudden trip down memory lane—his mother had looked just like her. Keyes furrowed his brow.